Mock(ing)bird
by Harold Saxon
Summary: Sansa is a troubled young girl who just wants to disappear. After sleeping rough for several days, she meets Petyr, a borderline nutcase who comes at her with such excessive care that it instantly invokes thoughts of flight. When Sansa becomes more involved in Petyr's life, she discovers that something is very wrong with the world he is living in. An afterlife AU GOT fic.
1. Chapter 1

A game of thrones modern AU Sansa/Petyr fanfic. I have aged Sansa up a bit (early 20s) and made Petyr younger (late 30s), just to reduce the creep factor a notch. Petyr's character is based on a character played by Aidan Gillen in the movie Treacle jr. If you haven't seen it, go see it. It's wonderful.

1.  
Sansa Stark boarded the train in Oxford station at exactly 9:30 in the morning on April the 12th. Shortly before she boarded she had been on the phone for a while, calling her parents up in the north. It was her mum who had picked up her call.

Sansa told her that she had already left the university campus and was on her way home.

"Do you have a lot of washing with you?" Her mum asked.

"Only a bit." She lied. Actually she wasn't carrying any luggage with her. She had her mobile, her wallet with her bank and student ID card and a couple of folded banknotes in her back pocket, and that was it.

"It's just your brothers are going to be home for spring break too. You know how they tend to hoard up. They never give me anything to wash unless it's completely caked with dirt, just when the washing machine is acting up. I told your father that we should get rid of the old thing and go to the shop to buy a new one, but, you know how he is, he wants to take a long look at it first…"

"It's going to be fine, mum." She smiled, hoping that her mother would somehow hear that smile right through to the other side of the line so she wouldn't worry about her too much. "I've still got plenty of clean clothes to wear."

"Are you sure you're wrapped up warm enough? It's still very cold up here. It's been mad all week. Last Tuesday, it even started to snow in the late afternoon."

She was very relieved to see the train finally pulling into the station. "I have to go now, mum. My train is here."

"At least promise me that you'll wear something warm. I know you don't like cardigans or sweaters because they are not fashionable, but it this is not the kind of weather to indulge in such silly vanities."

"I will. I promise." She felt a rope tightening around her heart. "I really have to go now. Love you mum, speak to you when I am there."

"Love you too my darling, be careful! See you in a couple of hours."

Sansa let the mobile slip in the pocket of her long coat. The train on platform 5 that had just arrived was the 9:20 to Edinburgh, but instead of getting on, she waited till all of the other passengers have boarded. She still was waiting when the conductor jumped onto one of the carriages and after checking, blew on his whistle to signal for the doors to close. When the train finally pulled out of the station, she looked up at the board to find out which train was coming in next. By chance, it just happened to the 9:30 to London.

It didn't really matter to her which train she was going to take. She just wanted to disappear. London was as good as any other town. As long as it wasn't home, it would do.

2.  
There was a cold numbness that came with sleeping rough. It was like an anesthetic that seeped into her brains till she felt so paralyzed that she could hardly do anything, or want anything. She had not spoken with another human being for 2 days now, and she was dead tired. The trouble was that she couldn't really sleep at night. The streets of London were never quiet, not even in the many public parks that looked so serene and safe during the day, little kids with their mothers, people jogging or walking their dogs, old ladies feeding the ducks in the pond.  
But at night, after all the decent folk had gone, the place turned into something much more frightening. With gangs of hooded teenagers stalking around in the dark, drinking and shouting and whistling and catcalling her every time she passed, she felt like a hunted animal, lost in the deep dark woods.

On the first night in London, she slept in a small park on a graffiti covered park bench under a big oak tree. She was roughly woken up by a loud homeless drunk who was yelling at her that this was his sleeping spot, and he threatened to rape and kill her if she didn't fuck off. Terrified, she ran away. After that she didn't dare to go any place quiet anymore, not after dark. She spent last night sitting outside on the steps of some grand building, a former bank turned hipster apartments, with her face buried in her woolen coat for comfort. It was a busy spot, and it was long after midnight when she finally managed to fall asleep despite the noisy traffic and the constant flow of people around her. She was roughly woken again in the early hours of morning by the cleaners who asked her to move because they needed to sweep the street.

I can't do this any longer, I really can't. She thought to herself, as she walked away from where she had so uncomfortably spent the night, huddling in her coat. I can't stay awake for another day and spend somewhere out in the streets for the night again. I can't live like this. I really need to find somewhere safe to sleep.

Eight in the morning and the city was bustling again with commuters. So many people were passing her by on their way to work or whatever place they needed to be, but she didn't dare to ask any of them for help. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to. She just couldn't, just like she couldn't make herself to go home.

She sat down on the edge of a fountain and rummaged through her pockets. She found her mobile phone. It had been switched off ever since she had arrived in the capital. She didn't dare to switch it back on. Her parents must have called her a thousand time by now, leaving a string of worried messages.

Succumbing to a pang of guilt, she put it away again and took out the small change in her wallet. Counting the small amount of coins in her hand, she figured she would probably have enough to buy a bus ticket. She walked to the closest bus stop and got on the first bus that turned up. Climbing up the narrow winding staircase on wobbly legs when they started to pull away from the bus stop, she just managed not to keel over and dropped herself into one of the empty seats. There, she pulled her hood down over her face and put her head against the windowpane. As soon as she closed her eyes, she drifted away.

She was so fast asleep that she didn't even notice that someone came and sat down next to her. Not until she was poked repeatedly her in her arm that was.

"Hello, miss? Miss? Do you hear me miss?"

Still dead tired, she struggled to peel open her eyelids. A man with a messy mob of black curly hair and a thin scruffy beard wearing a baseball cap was staring right back at her with a friendly smile plastered on his face.

"Are you awake miss? Miss? You are awake, aren't you?"

God, the world must hate her. Why can she never have a bit of peace and quiet?

"Yes I am." She replied, rubbing her eyes. "I am awake. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh no, no, nothing wrong." The man replied, shaking his head fervently. He had finally stopped poking in her arm. "I just thought, I saw you being so fast asleep, and I was worried that you might have missed your stop or something. It happens to me quite often and it's never good you know."

He was speaking very fast and very loud. Sansa noticed that the other passengers were looking at him.

"I once fell asleep in one of those night line busses. You know the ones that ride after midnight and only come once an hour? I ended up in a bus depot in Ipswich. I couldn't get home. I just couldn't. They wouldn't drive me back and I had to spend the entire night sleeping outside with my head against a dustbin. They wouldn't let me sleep on the bus inside the depot you see, because there were safety issues or something. I couldn't get a bus back a till the next morning, and they told me I had to buy another expensive ticket as well."

"Ipswich?" Sansa muttered, not sure how to react to him. Not only was he speaking very rapidly, he had some sort of speech impediment that made every word sound slurred. With her head still dazed, she only could pick up Ipswich from the incoherent string of ramblings.

"Yes, yes Ipswich. That's pretty far away isn't?" He furrowed his brows. "Come to think of it, I might have taken the wrong bus. Anyway, you didn't miss your stop now miss? You're sure about that?"

"Yes I am sure, thank you." Sansa replied timidly, noticing that the other people on the bus were now staring at them both.

"Because you've been sitting here quite a while now. We've been around a few times already. You know?" He twirled circles with his finger. "Normally people get out somewhere along the line between here and the city center. Not that I am saying that you're weird or anything. I don't mind sitting up here and riding around all the time. I have nothing important to do like other people do. Work and school and stuff. Do you have anywhere important to be miss?"

She blinked the last of her sleep out of her eyes. The man sitting next to her was still wearing a big friendly smile on his face. Now she got a better look at him, she saw that he was dressed in a white T-shirt with over it some sort of faded brown tweed jacket that had seen better days. It was covered with all sorts of colorful badges, the sort of stuff kids pinned on their clothes to look cool. Great Sansa thought, yet another weirdo. Welcome to the great city of London. She really was regretting that she had not thought it through before she decided to board the train to the capital. Maybe she should have gone to Ipswich, like this creepy idiot had.

"Yes, I do have to be somewhere." She lied. "Actually, I think this is my stop. She turned her head to pretend that she was looking at a passing sign. "Oh yes, this definitely is my stop." She told him as the bus started to pull over. "Could you please let me get out?"

"Oh of course." He said with a wide grin, and stood up let her pass. "I am very glad you didn't miss your stop."

"Thanks" Sansa muttered, trying to avoid eye contact. She was halfway down the stairs when he yelled after her.

"You're very tall."

"What?" She half-turned around and got a real fright when she nearly bumped into him.

"You're very tall." He told her, holding on to the railing with all the grace of a wobbly newborn giraffe. "You must be what? 1,75-76? I think you're a bit taller then me." He added, making a serious attempt to compare heights using his free hand. "You have to watch out. You're very tall."

"Em yes." Feeling really creeped out now, she turned back around, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground. She was just taking the last step down when she bumped her head painfully against the metal ridge that stuck out from the upper floor.

"Oh miss? Are you all right? You have to watch out, or you'll bump your head. I do that all the time when I get off. I tried to warn you though."

She really had enough. Nursing the bump on her forehead, she hastened her steps to get off the bloody bus, half-aware that people were now looking at her like she was with this shouty idiot.

Much to her annoyance and despair, the strange man followed her.

Are you all right?" He asked when she was left standing alone with him at the bus stop in God knows where. "Are you hurt? Let me see." Sansa immediately stepped back when he tried to come closer to her.

"What are you doing?" She snapped.

"Sorry! Sorry about that." He raised his hands up and backed away a few steps, visibly taken by her response. "I just wanted to help. Seriously, I am not a GP or anything, but I have plenty of experience. I had masses of bumps before. Masses. So if it is really serious or anything, I would know."

"No just…don't, I am fine, really." She struggled to respond to him. How can someone possibly be so nice and creepy and confusing at the same time?

"You're sure? Because you don't want it to swell." He pointed at the bump on her forehead that was now starting to pulse like an angry vein. "It can turn massive you know."

"Thank you for your concern-"

"Petyr." He rubbed his hand clean over the side of his trousers and stretched it out to her with a wide grin. "Call me Petyr. Petyr Bealish."

"Thank you." She said, deliberately ignoring his hand. "You really don't need to worry about me."

He took her hand anyway and pumped it up and down most enthusiastically. "Good to meet you! What's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes, I told you what my name is, so what is yours?"

She should just lie, make up something and be done with it really, but her tiredness had turned her brains into mush.

"Sansa." She told, him, figuring that he couldn't really do much with only her first name anyway.

"Sansa? Oh but that's a beautiful name. Really beautiful. Did your parents give you that? Did they name you Sansa?"

Who else, you moron, she thought, but instead just replied with a polite yes and quickly pulled her hand away to bury it deep inside her coat pocket.

"It's wonderful to meet you Sansa." That moronic grin again. "You seem like a very nice person. I haven't met anyone nice with such a beautiful name for quite a while now. Today must be my lucky day."

"Look I really need to-"

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He interrupted her.

"I guess it is."

"It's really lovely. The sun is shining. The trees are green. The flowers are blooming. It's almost even too warm to wear my coat. Can you imagine? I love my coat. I wear it all the time. When it rains, or when it's snowing. Even in mid-summer, and I am sweating in it like an icecream sitting in the microwave."

"Pete?"

"Petyr." He corrected her.

"Peter, It's been very nice meeting you, but I really need to go."

"Yeah me too. Where are you going?"

"That way." She just pointed at a random direction really. "And you?" Hoping very much that he would go the exact opposite direction.

"Oh I am totally flexible." He shrugged. "I can go anywhere. On a beautiful day like this, with all the birds singing and flying around, busy building their little nests, you know what would really make it special? You know what really would make me happy?"

"No I don't." And I really don't care, she thought to herself.

"I would love to see a hock bird."

She blinked her eyes fervently while her heart leaped in the throat as her internal creep alarm just went up another notch.

"I beg you pardon?"

"A hock bird. I would like to see a hock bird."

"A hot bird?" Why of why was she even still talking to him. This guy was obviously mentally ill.

"Yes, I mean no, a hmmock bird. A mock bird."

"A mock bird?"

"Yes, yes that! I am sorry! I sometimes I get the H and the M confused when I am very nervous. I am almost never nervous but, you know, it's not every day you meet a new friend."

"What's a mockbird?" She asked, her heart settling down a bit. _Oh why do I even ask?_

"You really don't know what they are?" A radiant smile spread over his lips. "Oh let me tell you, they are absolutely wonderful, they are so cool. They don't look like much, they don't have very fancy plumage or anything. They are just small and a little bit grey, with streaks of black and white, but they are amazing. They can do the most amazing things. Here let me show you. Make a sound."

"What sound?"

"Any sound, pick a sound, any sound really. Make any sound you want."

The only sound she could think of making right now is a long exhausted sigh. So she did.

"Okayyy. Ehm, make another sound. Pick any other sound, any sound."

"Please go away." She said softly, hoping that he really would.

"Please go away!" He snapped his fingers enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes! That's exactly the kind of sound that a mockbird would be able to make! Only it would be more repetitive, like a song you know. These birds are amazing in imitating sound, any sound. So if you said, please go away, it would respond with a sound like, Ple gooo a-wey, Ple gooo a-wey, gooo a-wey, gooo-wey!"

"Oh please do." She mumbled, catching the strange gazes people passing by were giving them. Unfortunately for her, her sarcasm remained, much like anything else around him really, completely registered.

"I love watching birds." He said, finally shutting the heck up. With a wide grin, he pulled on a string that hung around his neck and produced a set of mini binoculars from under his jacket. "Watch them every morning at six from my balcony. I would love to see one, you know, a mock bird, for real, but I can't, they don't breed in the UK. Much too cold. And they don't even have one at the Zoo. Believe me, I checked. I check every time I go there. I asked them to get one, because, you know they are amazing, everyone would love them, they will bring masses of people in if they had one. So I told them that they should get one, I keep telling them that every time I go. They say they are busy with it, but they are really slow. I think they have trouble getting the right papers or something to get it imported. They can be very strict with importing exotic animals here, you know, but not so much as like in Australia, I suppose. Over there they are really, really strict with these sort of things."

Sansa thought that if she would just stop looking at him and stop replying to his odd rambles, that maybe he will just give up and go away. But he didn't.

They walked several blocks, crossed over the road to the small park where she had spent her first dreadful night in the capital. They walked around the duck pond and the kids play yard several times, then left the park again and crossed over another road to a small local shopping mall. He kept following here, walking beside her like an overexcited schoolboy, talking incessantly about all kinds of nonsense and trivialities, while she kept her mouth shut and her headache grew worse and worse, till it was resonating inside her skull like thunder.  
"Pete!" She suddenly yelled at him, stopping dead in her track. She really, really had enough. She had to get rid of this guy now, or she would go screaming mad.

"It's Petyr." He corrected her. "With an Y. I know it's weird. I don't think my parents put much thought into it when they named me. It's very inconvenient, people often write it wrong."

"Pete, Peter what ever. Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"No not really." He shrugged, returning a friendly smile to her.

"Well, I need to go. I need to go home, right now."

"Yes I know."

"You do?"

"Yes! That's why I am walking along with you. It's getting pretty dark, and we're not in the best of neighborhoods. Not that we're going to get killed or anything. It's not that bad." He added with a reassuring grin. "It's safe enough. I live here, but you're not from here, and you're a girl, and on your own, so I figured I should walk you home. You know, just to be safe."

"How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That I am not from around here."

"Your accent. It's not from here. It sounds very northern. You sound like you're from Edinburgh or something." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you from Edinburgh? You're not trying to get back up there tonight are you? Because if you are, I think I need to go home to get more money." He rummaged through his pockets and took out a handful of coins and a crumbled up 5 pound banknote. "I don't think I have enough to get to Edinborough and back." He told her, while clumsily straightening the note. "And I need to tell my landlady that I probably won't return before 9:00. Otherwise she won't know where I am and she going to go completely loopy on me."

"I am not…" Sansa shook her head, getting too lost for words. "You don't need to bring me back all the way to Scotland. I don't live there. Not anymore."

"Oh phew!" He laughed, visibly relieved. "But I wouldn't have minded though, to bring you back to Edinburgh. It's just it would have been very difficult for me to get back to London tonight. And my landlady really doesn't like it when I stay away too long without telling her. She is a sweet lady, very caring, but she can get a bit shouty something."

"You really don't need to bring me to Edinburgh. I haven't even lived there." She lied, getting irritated. "There are more cities in the north you know."

"Oh but I should! I really should. It's the decent thing to do. It's what a true gentleman would do. So where do you live? Are we going the right way? Because back in the park, I thought you were lost of something, because we kept going around the duck pond several times."

"Where do you live?" She asked. Of course she didn't really give a damn where he lived. It was a way to distract him. After having spent almost the entire afternoon with this strange man, she had found out that he was very easily distracted.

A wide happy smile crept over his face that had all the strange charm of an overfriendly Labrador who was about to slobber all over your face.

"You really want to know? You want to see where I live? I can definitely show you that! Definitely! It's really close by. It's just around the corner."

It was indeed. After they had turned and had passed by a stone-walled garden, they reached an ugly estate building that sat in the middle of what must be the saddest looking concrete car park that she had seen since arriving in the city.

"Here it is, King's Landing estate, home sweet home!" he spread his arms wide in a ridiculously grand gesture, as if he was presenting her a royal castle instead of four floors of red brick estate flats. Everything around her looked incredible grimy and dilapidated. Perhaps Pete or whatever his name is, was right. This neighborhood didn't look really that safe to walk around by herself after dark.

"Oh do you want to come up and see my place?" He fumbled up his sleeves to reveal what must be the last existing plastic digital wristwatch in the UK. "Quarter past seven. It's still early. My landlady would not mind that much."

"Oh that's very kind of you. But I really must be going." Sansa managed to say. Her head felt like a balloon that was about to burst. Suddenly, the world started to turn in front of her eyes, and she felt like her head was drifting away, as if it was separating itself from the rest of her body.

"Are you all right?" His blue-grey eyes large with concern.

"Yes." She muttered, wishing he would shut up.

"Are you sure?"

"I said I was all right."

"Because you know, you look very pale. I mean really, really pale. Like a ghost. In fact, you're paler than a ghost. Like if you were a ghost, you would be almost transparent by now and be very frightening to the other ghosts."

"I…" She couldn't finish her sentence. The world was now violently spinning around her. She sank through her knees. He caught her in his arms, just before she hit the pavement.

"Sansa, what are you doing? Do you hear me? Sansa? Sansa?"

Her eyes rolled up to the back of her skull and she fainted.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

1.

Sansa was dreaming, of that she was at least sure. She knew she was because in her dreams, nothing ever made any sense, and things that had never really happened always seemed so real that they appeared more like memories to her than mere fabrications of her imagination.

It was merely days since she had arrived with her father and her little sister Arya in King's Landing. Today was a very special day, it was the Hand's tourney, a jousting contest that was held in honor of her father becoming the new Hand of the king. She sat at the grandstand near the royal family that was especially built for the occasion. Dressed in a long sleeved pink silk dress, she was the every image of the beautiful maiden of the Seven, the goddess who lived in every lover's sigh, and planted the seeds of dreams into every young boy's heart. She captured the attention of ser Loras, the knight of the flowers, who handed her a deep red rose. Her heart beat quickened when he turned to greet her with a courteous bow. He was so handsome. Just his smile was enough to melt her tender heart.

It was then that the woman who sat next to her and who she knew was her septa called to her. "Sansa dear." She said, gesturing at a man who had just joined them at the stand. "This is lord Bealish, he is –"

"An old friend of your family." He smiled at her with a mischievous glint in his grey blue eyes. She returned a friendly smile, but didn't thought that much of him, her heart still overflown with the flower knight, but she did noticed the small silver pin that he wore, right under the collar of his tunic. It was shaped like a bird, a mocking bird, she knew. It was not called a mock bird, like whoever that idiot was that had recently told her so, and although it was small, and insignificant looking, with only streaks of white and black to brighten up its dull plumage of mostly grey, it was amazing, because it could perfectly imitate sound. It could imitate the cries of all the mighty beasts in the forest, of the majestic stags, of the dangerous lions and proud wolfs. It could even imitate artificial sounds, such as the sirens of the police car that was now wailing through her dream. A disruptive, irritating noise that was pulling her out of her strange but familiar world.

She woke up from the loud television sounds blasting through the thin wall, fragmenting the last memories of her dream till there was nothing left of it in her mind. She was lying on the lower bunk of what appeared to be a bunk bed, in a room so small that it was almost claustrophobic. Confused and much disorientated, she rubbed her hand over her face, and felt the bump on her forehead. She was surprised to find some sort of cooling plaster stuck on to it. The bump had only swollen slightly, and didn't hurt that much anymore.

Where the heck was she?

Flashes of had happened to her came back to her, making her heart jump in panic. Didn't she walk home with that creepy weirdo she met on the bus? Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself. _Oh God!_ _He didn't touch me, did he?_ She wasn't sure, but then she noticed that she was still fully dressed, and was even still wearing her shoes. Only her coat had been removed and was draped neatly over a coat hanger that hung from the back of a chair in the corner of the room.

 _It's all right._ She told herself, taking in a deep breath. _Just calm down. It was not like that. It was nothing like what happened at uni. I was unconscious, I got so tired that I fainted right in the arms of that lunatic. It was incredibly stupid of me, but nothing happened, he didn't touch me. Just get the hell out of here before he finds out that you're awake._

She quietly took her coat from the hanger, and tiptoed to the door. For a brief moment, she was panicking again, fearing that it would be locked. Her overactive mind was coming up with all sorts of horrible scenarios, replaying every scene from movies she had watched as a teenager in which young girls were kidnapped and locked away in rooms to be raped and murdered by crazy psychopaths. Her heartbeat rang in her ears when she tried the door handle. Much to her relief, it gave way, and she entered a dimly lit, tiny hallway. One side of it led to what appeared to be a chaotic mess of a living room, the other was leading to the front door. She sneaked towards it, passing the bright rectangle that was the entrance to the kitchen. She heard the noise of pots and pans clanging against eachother, and the hiss of something being fried in a pan. Edging pass with her back against the yellow wallpaper, she had almost managed to slip by the kitchen unnoticed when her host peeked his face around the corner and gave her the fright of her life.

"Sansa!" He called cheerfully, still talking way too loud. "You're awake! How are you feeling? Are you feeling any better? How is your bump? I put a cooling plaster on it so wouldn't swell up."

"Fine. It's fine." She muttered, again bowled over by the way he was communicating with her. "Thank you, I am feeling much, much better now." She wanted to slip pass him and move towards the front door, but somehow he had cornered her in such a way that she had no other option then to back away into the kitchen.

"You suddenly fainted." He noted, his voice serious with concern. "So I bought you home and let you sleep. You were very tired. You slept for hours."

"That was very kind of you." She relied, forcing herself to smile.

"I figured it might be because you were hungry, that you literally fainted of hunger! We have been hanging out all afternoon and you didn't eat anything. Let me tell you, I was really peckish when I came home, and I have some reserves, you know, I am practically fat compared to you. So I am going to feed you something and you will feel much better I am sure. I am cooking up some pasta for us both." He picked up the pan to show it her. "It's not really cooking, it all comes from a tin really." He reassured her with a grin. "I am not allowed to really cook anything from my landlady, only warm stuff up. She is too worried I will have another accident and set her kitchen on fire again." He continued to stir the food into a pulp. "You like pasta, don't you?"

"Ehm, no, sorry I can't eat that." Sansa answered.

"Why not?"

"I am a vegan."

"I am sorry?"

"A vegan." She sighed. "I can't eat meat or any other animal product."

"But, then…pasta is all right, right? There is no meat in pasta."

"Yes there is. There is probably meat in the sauce."

"Really?" He furrowed his brows in complete astonishment and searched through the bin to pick out the discarded can, eyes squinting at the label. "Okay, there is flour in it, tomatoes, oregano, oh no, you're right, 10% beef, that's no good, no? Although, it's just 10%. Only 10% Sansa?"

"No it's no good."

"Oh okay, right. Sorry didn't realize that. Didn't know that you were a vegan." Seemingly very confused about the whole vegan concept, he picked up the pan from the gas cooker and absent-mindedly tilted the red goo into the bin.

"Hey, you don't need to throw that away. I don't eat it, but you could. I thought you said you were hungry?"

"Yeah well, it's not nice to make you watch me eat and let you go hungry, is it? You're my guest. I should take care of you. It's all right, I just have to cook up something else." He scratched the back of his head and opened the fridge to go through the content. "No, am not allowed to cook that." He muttered to himself. "Can't cook that either, not that, not that, not that, and –" He cocked his head to the side to read something hand written on a label that was stuck on to a plastic bag. "Don even think of touching it on the pain of death you moron…right…" He slammed the fridge shut and jumped back up with a somewhat helpless expression on his face. "Definitely nothing out of the fridge then. Maybe something from the cupboards?" He swung open the cupboard doors and swept through the content, picking up cans and packages, and taking a good look at them while repeatedly scratching his head, each of them seemingly more confusing or frightening to him than the other, before quickly returning everything back to the shelves. He finally found a can that he wasn't afraid of using and shoved it in front of her face. "Cream mushroom pasta!" he proclaimed in triumph. "That you can eat right? There is definitely no meat in mushrooms."

"But it does still contain milk, and probably cheese, and I am pretty sure they use eggs to make the pasta. So I still can't eat any of it."

"Milk powder, cheese, eggs…" He muttered, reading the label aloud. "Yup you're right again, it's all in there. Pfff this is not easy!" He smiled and raised his eyebrows at her. Then, a bit baffled; "You can't eat any of that? Seriously?"

"Not if I am following a vegan diet." God she hated it when she had to explain it to other people that being a vegan isn't some sort of weird cult of anything.

He put the can of pasta on the sink and gawked at her with a face full of concern. "No wonder you're so thin. Look at you, you're skin and bones. You must be absolutely starving. I would die if I can not have any of that."

Sansa sighed and was about to tell him to sod off when he turned around, having picked up a carton of eggs.

"How about an omelet." He asked hopefully. "I can make an omelet. I have made it…" He paused and thought about it for a moment. "Twice? At least one of them, I am pretty sure, was pretty okay, because my landlady didn't immediate dump it in the bin when I gave it to her."

"An omelet is made out of eggs." Sansa told him slowly, almost chewing on her tongue to stop herself from shouting at him. "An egg is an animal product. I can't eat an omelet."

He opened his mouth to say something, but wisely paused to think about it first. "Ah…" He bit on his lower lip. "Ehm…How…sick are you going to get if you eat just a little bit of it? I mean, on a scale from 0 to 10, ranging from just fine to life threatening and me having to bring you to the hospital, what would it do to you if you would just have, let's say, just the egg white?"

She gave up. "You know what?" She said, faking a grin. "Fine, just give me the omelet." She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. She was actually starving, having not eaten for several days. She wanted to eat something, her principles be damned.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to make you sick or anything." He added, raising his hands in the air. "Can you really eat that when you have a vegan allergy? Because I don't want you to die from it. You're my friend, and I don't want my omelet to kill you. I would never forgive myself."

"it's not…" She swallowed the rest of the sentence and replaced it with something that she thought was probably going to spare her a lot of grief. "It's not that serious." She managed to say with a much forced smile.

"You're sure? You're really really really sure?"

"Yes! Yes I am sure." She finally snapped. "Just go make the bloody thing already."

"Okidoki! Two omelets, coming up!" The worries immediately vanished from his face and he was back to his cheery old self.

Completely exhausted from that one conversation alone, Sansa sat herself down at the kitchen table and put her head back to stare at the cobwebbed ceiling light. No, she was by now pretty sure that Peter or Petyr, was not going to hurt or murder her tonight, but he just might manage to drive her insane. The tiny kitchen was filling up with thick black smoke and the smell of burnt egg when she heard the front door open and slam shut.

"Petyr! Petyr? Is that you in the kitchen?"

She saw him cringe a little in response. He ran to immediately remove the pan from the cooker and started frantically scratching off what must be the first fully carbonized egg that she had ever seen from the bottom of the blackened pan onto a random plate.

"Petyr!" Someone screeched.

"I am in here misses Tyrell!" He yelled back over his shoulder into the hallway. "Misses Tyrell is my landlady." He explained Sansa, quickly placing the plate with carbon omelet in front of her with a very thoughtful side of tomato ketchup. "She is really nice. Don't you worry! I know for sure that she won't mind you being here."

"Petyr! You moron, have you been cooking again?"

"She is just a bit shouty sometimes. That's all. She's got a hearing aid. She can't hear herself talking. She is very very old."

"I am old, yes, but not deaf, like you bloody well seem to be. I told you to stay out of my kitchen! Are you only going to be satisfied when everything in my house is burnt to a charcoal husk?" A short elderly lady walked in, leaning on a cane and waving her hand in front of her face to clear the smoke. "Jesus, what have you been doing in here?"

"Nothing, nothing." He replied, hiding the burnt pan behind his back. "I was just making an omelet, that's all. I really didn't burn anything this time." He lied rather poorly, his eyes darting down to avoid her gaze. "Or maybe just the pan." He admitted when she kept staring him with a soured look. "I am sorry misses Tyrell! I am going to clean it all up for you. I promise. You really don't need to worry."

"Who is this trollop?" The silver haired elderly asked, staring wide-eyed at Sansa.

"Excuse me?" Sansa couldn't believe her ears.

"Oh Petyr." The old woman continued to scold. "I told you not to bring in strays. No cats or prostitutes, remember? I don't want any of them in my house. The first ones piss and shit all over the place, and the second ones are going to rob you blind. Haven't you learned anything from the last time you brought home a hooker from the streets?"

"Oh no misses Tyrell, Sansa is not like that." Petyr told her, shaking his head fervently. "She is a nice person. I am sure. She is my friend and she has a vegan allergy, and I am pretty sure she isn't a prostitute because she hasn't been asking me for any money." Petyr turned to Sansa. "You're not a prostitute are you?" He asked hopefully.

"I am pretty sure I am not." Sansa replied sarcastically.

"She is pretty sure she is not, that's good enough right?" Petyr asked the elderly woman with an eager expression on his face. "Can she stay for tonight? It's really late. She hasn't had anything to eat yet. She is skin and bones and faints when she is hungry. She has to finish her omelet. She can sleep in my room on the top bunk."

"My dear boy, you're only renting the lower bunk." Misses Tyrell reminded him. "You don't pay me enough to also rent the upper one."

"Oh but she could sleep in my bed. I can sleep on the floor easily. I really don't mind. Please misses Tyrell, Sansa won't give you any troubles, I promise. I'll do everything. I'll make the bed. I will clean everything afterwards. I'll cook her supper."

"No you bloody well won't." Misses Tyrell replied, leaning over the stove to switch on the exhaust hood and opening a window to air out the kitchen while she coughed the smoke out of her sensitive lungs. "You want the neighbors to come over again to complain? Is that what you want? Do you really want them to come yell at you again?"

Petyr bit on his lower lip and shook his head feverishly.

"Petyr, it's quite all right. I don't need to spend the night here." Sansa tried. "I can just go."

"Oh no Sansa. You have to stay for tonight. Please stay. Please misses Tyrell, Sannsa is a nice person. She is not a cat. She is not going to soil your carpet, and she is pretty sure that she isn't a prostitute. Please can she stay?"

"Oh Petyr." Misses Tyrell suddenly went weak through her knees, her hand clutching onto her bosom. "My poor heart." She croaked.

"Misses Tyrell? Oh no! Is it your heart again? Is it your heart?" Concerned, he rushed over to her side and assisted her to a chair. The elderly woman sank forward, and started to breathe with great difficulty.

"What is going on? What's wrong with her?" Sansa asked, noticing the sudden panic in his eyes.

"Misses Tyrell has a heart condition. She - she gets into trouble when she is stressed. Misses Tyrell, do you hear me? Is your hearing aid working? I am really sorry!" Petyr cried out, running his fingers through his messy hair, his face ravaged by guilt. "I am sorry that I have upset you. I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry!"

"I need – I need my pills." Misses Tyrell puffed, squinting her eyes in pain.

"Pills, your pills! Yes, yes, of course, where are they? Are they in your bag?" He jumped up and was about to rush out into the hallway to get them for her.

"No, no. They are not in there." She wheezed. "I have finished them ages ago. Forgot to get new ones."

"Oh no." Petyr muttered, looking absolutely terrified he turned to Sansa for help. "What are we going to do? She is going to die without her pills. She is going to die and it's all my fault."

"Do you have a phone? We should call the ambulance." Sansa opted.

"No that's no good." Misses Tyrell whispered, getting more and more out of breath. "They take ages to get here. I will be dead before they arrive." She coughed and clasped her hand tighter onto her chest. "Petyr?" She looked up at his pale frightened face. "Listen to me dear. Stop panicking and go get my purse. There is a prescription note in there. Take that and a tenner and run down to pharmacist. Show them the note. They will give you the right pills. Do you remember where the pharmacist is?"

He nodded. "Near the baker and the fish an chips shop in the small shopping mall on the other side of the road." He answered, knowing it by heart because he had been sent there many many times before.

"That is correct. Now go there and get me those damned pills, before I keel over."

Petyr rushed to get everything together. "I will be back soon misses Tyrell! I will get your pills. Don't die! Please don't die!" He yelled over his shoulder as he ran out of the front door wearing one and half a shoe and forgetting to wear his jacket all together.

As soon as he had left the apartment, misses Tyrell immediately stopped breathing loudly and sat up straight in her chair. "Thank God he's gone." She muttered.

Sansa was shocked as she watched misses Tyrell get up by herself and walk over to the sink while hardly leaning on her cane. "Are you all right misses Tyrell?" She asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"I am fine." Misses Tyrell replied dismissively, rolling her eyes at her as she took a glass and what looked like a bottle of rum from under the kitchen sink cabinet and poured herself a glass full. "At least as fine as one could be at my age."

"What's going on?" Sansa asked, finally getting a hint of an idea. "You're not really ill, are you?"

"Of course not. I needed to send the poor idiot away for a while so we two can have a quiet talk." She took a good swig of the rum and stared back at Sansa, studying her with an air of contempt on her wrinkled old face. "Tell me honestly. Don't lie because I can always tell. Why are you here?"

"I didn't want to be here." Sansa replied. "He brought me to the apartment. I was not feeling very well and fainted in the street." The old woman's strange behavior boggled her mind. Everything that she had encountered today was so very stressful and strange. Sansa almost wished she was back out in the streets where the daily chaos of the city was far more manageable for her average sized brains.

"You're not a prostitute? He didn't pay you?" Misses Tyrell noted.

She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with a what? 60-70 year old lady? "No of course not."

"Because if you are, you should just leave, right now." She told her in a strict voice. "I assure you, Petyr does not have any more money, and he really doesn't know what he is paying you for. In fact, he probably just thought that he was helping out a friend. He doesn't expect or want anything from you. So you can just stop taking advantage of the poor sod and get out of my house before he comes back."

Sansa felt her cheeks flush with indignation. "For the last time. I am not a prostitute, and I don't want to take advantage of him. I would never do that." She added in a softer voice. "He's obviously very ill. He probably needs help."

"Oh Petyr is not ill, but he does need help. Lots of it." Misses Tyrell sighed, and took another glass out of the cabinet. "All right, so you're not hooker. What are you then? His new girlfriend?" She smiled sarcastically. "An innocent young beauty who was captured by the natural charm and endless wit of our Petyr?" She gazed at her slyly. "You wanted to come and visit his wonderful apartment to spent a romantic evening of passion, is that it?"

"What? no." Sansa cringed, shaking her head to get rid of the disturbing images. "I am not his new girlfriend. I am not even his friend. Not really. We've only just met. I told you that I've fainted and he brought me here."

"Why did you faint?" Misses Tyrells continued.

"I was tired." _God, when was this absurd interrogation ever going to end?_

"Why didn't you go home if you were not feeling well?"

"I…" She hesitated what to tell her.

Misses Tyrell's lips curdled slightly. "Right, you're homeless then. Should have known right away." She muttered, shaking her head. "He just can't resist bringing home strays, can he? I keep telling him." She came over to the kitchen table and set down her own glass and poured a full glass of rum in the other.

"Here take a sip if you want." She offered. "You look like you could need some. It will warm you up. Just don't finish it, leave a good half behind." She screwed back the cap and stored the rest of the bottle under the kitchen sink.

"No thank you." Sansa muttered. "What I would like is to leave before he comes back."  
"Leave?" Misses Tyrell looked at her, raising her eyebrows. "You're not going to leave my dear. At least, I would advice against it. King's Landing is a rough neighborhood. Unless you want to get robbed or worse, you would be better off spending the night on the top bunk of Petyr's bunkbed."

"But I thought you didn't want me to stay?"

"I did not want you to take advantage of him. You have convinced me that you wouldn't. Petyr is a kind and sweet boy, but a complete utter idiot in all matters of life. You have no idea how awful most people treat him." She gazed at Sansa as if she was still doubtful that she wouldn't.

"He really should be looked after, but he has no-one, no family of his own." She continued, finishing her rum in one swig. "When he first moved in he was receiving social security benefits for his disability. He had a social worker who came to check on him every week. Both were barely enough, but it was doable. But that was years ago. Now, he doesn't receive even a penny or a measly phone call. Cuts in funding, you see. They basically sent him to the local shrink and asked him to sign the papers that he would be fine on his own." Misses Tyrell sniggered sardonically. "If you have spent an hour or two with Petyr, you know he isn't. It's cruel to leave people like him to fend entirely for their own, but that's our modern society for you. People are so obsessed nowadays with money and success, they prefer to forget the flawed and damaged among us."

She sipped from the second glass, leaving it half full before she walked back to the sink.

"What are you doing?" Sansa asked, watching her fill the glass up with tap water.

"Believe me dear, you will thank me later." Misses Tyrell replied, just when they heard the front door slam shut. Petyr rushed into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed and eyes still wide with panic. "Got it!" He wheezed. His shirt was drenched in sweat. His damp dark curls were plastered over his forehead.

"Petyr dear." Misses Tyrell told him in a reassuring voice. "I am fine now. Sansa found another bottle of pills. It was lying in the back of my night cabinet. I had forgotten all about it. It was rather silly of me." Misses Tyrell took a brown bottle out of her pocket and rattled the content to show him. "Such a smart helpful young lady." She gave Sansa a wink. "You don't need to worry. I have taken a few and am already feeling much better."

"You do? Oh that's good news. Really really good news!" Although he was completely worn out, Petyr happily sank down in the chair opposite to misses Tyrell and Sansa and breathed out a deep sigh of relief. "God, I think I have just burst one of my lungs." He muttered, rubbing over his chest while still panting like a dog.

"My dear boy, you look exhausted." Misses Tyrell pushed the glass with watered down rum in his direction. "Here drink some water. It will calm you down."

Sansa almost wanted to say something but noticed the look misses Tyrells was giving her. Petyr took the glass and downed a good gulp. "This is tasting a bit funny?" He noted, wrinkling up his nose.

"Must be rust again in the old pipes." Misses Tyrell told him. "I will get someone to take a look at it. Just finish it will you? I need to do the washing up." She tilted the glass and watched how Petyr meekly finished it to the last drop.

"Well done." She said contently. "Oh by the way, Sansa is going to stay for tonight."

"Are you really?" Petyr gasped, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh that's so great! We're going to have a super time together! A super time! I can show you the birds from my balcony tomorrow morning. There is a couple of starlings nesting in the tree just across of the road. Oh and do you want the top or bottom bunk? I don't really mind, I can sleep anywhere. I'll let you pick. You're our guest."

A bit overwhelmed, Sansa let herself be dragged out of the kitchen by a very excited Petyr.

"I take you two are also still hungry?" Misses Tyrell yelled after them. "I'll get rid of the egg fossil and make something edible, shall I?"

2.

It took misses Tyrell hardly any time to cook up a supper for all three of them, and soon Sansa found herself sitting at the kitchen table with her strange hosts, eagerly wolfing down her plate of cooked peas and carrots with a side of brown rice. She was so hungry that she hardly noticed that misses Tyrell had been silently gazing at her for some time now.

"You're not from around here, are you dear?" she commented rather pensively.

Sansa looked up and was surprised by the seriousness of the elder woman's gaze. How come everyone she met in this place was asking her where she came from? Petyr mentioned she sounded northern, but she knew she didn't. At least no-one at uni had ever mentioned it to her.

She was about to say something about it when misses Tyrell interrupted her.

"Sansa, can you move his plate away?"

Sansa gazed at Petyr who had been sitting very quietly for a while now, shoving the peas on his plate around without eating much of his food.

"Why?"

"Too many questions, just do it already."

She did as she was told. Getting somewhat concerned about him being so unusually quiet, she gently shook him by his shoulder. "Petyr, are you all right?"

He suddenly sagged forward facedown over the table.

"Petyr?" Sansa asked worriedly, shaking him more fervently, but he was already too much gone to respond. Finally realizing what just had happened, she looked up at misses Tyrell.

"What?" the older woman replied, raising her eyebrows at her.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" She said accusingly.

"Off course I did. One half a glass of rum, and it's lights out for him within 20 minutes. It's like clockwork. Oh don't keep giving me that look dear." Misses Tyrell replied. "You don't want him to keep talking and keep you up all night, now do you? I didn't do it for myself, I won't hear a thing." She tapped on her ear with her index finger. "When I have enough of him, I just have to switch off my hearing aid. It's one of rare benefits of being near deaf when you're living with someone like Petyr."

She calmly stood up and started clearing the dishes from the table.

"Are you going to just leave him here?" Sansa asked, astonished.

"That's what I normally would do." Misses Tyrell replied. "It is fine. In his current state he will sleep through anything."

Sansa looked at Petyr's limp unconscious body that was already hanging half over his chair. "What if he keels over and falls?" She asked. "He could hurt himself."

"Well if it worries you so much, why don't you drag him to his own room. I am certainly not going to do it. Not with my hip."

Sansa rolled her eyes and sighed. Being the kind hearted idiot that she was, she swung Petyr's arm over her shoulder and, swaying like a mad pendulum, she managed to get and keep him on his feet long enough to move him through the hallway and into his room into his own bed. When he rolled into the lower bunk like a sack of heavy potatoes, she noticed that his set of binoculars was still dangling from a cord under his sweaty T shirt.

She also noticed that he had a narrow red patch of skin, like a jagged scar, that started just underneath his collarbone. It disappeared under the collar of his shirt.

Finding it strange, but feeling too exhausted to think too much about it, she went up the ladder and climbed into the upper bunk. Not before long, she had wrapped herself under the bedcovers, and as soon as she shut her eyes, she fell fast asleep.

 _TBC_


End file.
